The night Radiohead played Frazier Hall

This story has to start with a quick history lesson. 

In my freshman year here at ISU, I got capital “D” Dumped. I’d like to say I handled it well, but I totally didn’t, not even a little bit. The only good decision I made in the first three months of that year was downloading “In Rainbows” by Radiohead. Without that album, I would’ve flailed and wallowed for who knows how long.

These days I am very old, but hearing that ISU’s Commercial Music program was gearing up to play an all-Radiohead concert on Oct. 23 spirited me directly back to the dorm-room excitement of first queuing up “In Rainbows.”

Before I know it, Oct. 23 has arrived and murder–sheets of rain are thrashing the sidewalk outside Frazier, in full view of its still-mangled parking lot. There’s a line out the door.

Inside the Bilyeu Theater, it’s warm, dry and all smiles with a pre-show chatter. Tech staff pace laps around the theater and linger in black at the edges of the stage. The first song on the blue program I was given at the door is one of my favorites by Radiohead. 

Two electric guitars fade in first– closely harmonized arpeggios played by Dylan Nunn and Reese Thompson.

Then, a familiar and hypnotic keyboard melody, laid out by commercial music program director Dr. Jon Armstrong – all onstage grin and sway.

Chris Nunn’s drum kit roars to life next, carving a furious, syncopated path through the tune. Finally, the song’s vocal melody creeps from Sky Olsen’s tenor saxophone. There are no lyrics being sung, but I hear them anyway.

‘Everythiiiing…’

Michael Evans’ bass trombone accents the chord changes.

‘Everythiiiiing…’ 

Nunn’s ride cymbal hisses.

‘Everythiiiiing…’

Armstrong nods as Olsen finishes the eerie phrase.

‘In its riiiiiight place…’

Three days before, inside Goranson Hall, large ensemble practice is in full swing. Commercial music big band director Dr. Jenna McLean is guiding the group through close harmonies toward the end of “The Tourist.”

“Do you want both the fourth and the third here?” asks vocalist Amiah Heath. 

McLean confirms with a nod. “It’s supposed to be crunchy.”

I lingered after the rehearsal, in hopes of gauging the general mood among the musicians.

“I’m really excited for the small group [pieces],” said Olsen. “We’ve kind of been keeping them a little secret from each other, so I’m excited to see what the other groups have been working on, and to show everybody in the band what our groups have been working on as well.”

Three days later at Bilyeu, Olsen’s forecast has proven accurate. Students coming back down from the stage are greeted with palpable excitement and pride by their fellow musicians, every time.

“We’re always gonna do a repertoire show in the fall,” Armstrong tells the audience as the next small ensemble sets up. “This year, so many of our students came to us and asked, ‘Radiohead, Radiohead. It’s Radiohead, right?’”

And it is Radiohead – as far as each song’s twitchy, experimental flair, as far as the sweeping, triumphantly tortured arrangements – but with real immediacy it becomes clear that ISU’s commercial music ensembles really are working to surprise each other, and that this is what puts their renditions over the top, what lends the tunes a greater depth than their source material.

The difference is simple: ISU’s musicians perform without even a trace of Radiohead’s oppressive self-consciousness, in simultaneous celebration and deconstruction of the original arrangements. Carsten Kottraba’s vocal on “House of Cards” is languid and pleading, a far cry from Thom Yorke’s morose mumble in Radiohead’s version of the tune. The program’s performance of a full choral arrangement of “No Surprises” glows with a sincerity that the original recording could hardly hope for.

Armstrong once again addresses the audience, “Before they graduate, each of these [Commercial Music] majors will have created, produced, and released their own album.” 

This versatility will remain on display all night. Not one but two accordions solemnly fill out a heart-wrenching arrangement of “Motion Picture Soundtrack.” Tenor saxophonist Kacey Kennedy ducks back out of the horn section to supply growling bass guitar on “My Iron Lung.”

After the show, I walk home, without headphones on for a change. It’s still raining but not as hard, and there’s a pleasant ringing in my ears lingering behind the thunderous applause from Frazier and the final joyous strains of old favorites made entirely new.

Campus and the world have changed drastically since the winter I downloaded “In Rainbows,” but for a couple hours, the Bengal commercial music program plunged me straight back into those long-gone months, back when I had no problem calling an album my best friend.